Add The New York Post on Google We live in strange and confusing times.
Up is down. Day is night. Madonna is acclaimed. Taylor Swift is a circus act.
On Friday, 67-year-old Madge surprised everybody by releasing her first good album in 21 years, “Confessions II,” after a long string of clunkers and tasteless, embarrassing stunts.
The record has rolled in like a prayer. During a sweltering summer that’s been depressingly light on fresh dance-floor hits, we finally got some rhapsodic ones from a star who’s been with us for more than four decades.
And then, spookily on that very same day, 36-year-old Taylor wedded Travis Kelce at a small and unassuming venue called Madison Square Garden — an object lesson in tackiness.
The day of Madge and Tay’s abrupt switcheroo will henceforth be known as Freaky Friday.
When Page Six broke the shocking news of Taylor’s diabolical wedding plan back in April, fans were in total disbelief. How could she possibly do this? A Swiftie friend at a rival publication told me, “That’s not happening.” Well, it did. And nobody, save for the rich and powerful guests, is very happy about it.
Why would they be? Streets next to Penn Station, the busiest transit hub in North America, were blocked off for two days for a private celebrity marriage attended by 1,000 or so of the couple’s closest friends and wealthiest benefactors.
And more than 100 NYPD cops (that Swift reportedly will pay for) were diverted to her nuptials on a weekend when hordes of New Yorkers set off explosives in the road while binge drinking. Gee, thanks!
Reports on the decor varied. Some said the couple was building a castle inside of MSG. Others said, no, no, no, they’re creating a garden! I say, eh, it’s garish all the same.
And yet up till now, music’s reigning Queen of Tawdry Displays had been Madonna.
Remember three years ago when Madge released a piece of digital art depicting a tree grossly emerging from her, uh, material girl?
Or the time during the 2016 Rebel Heart tour when she went on unhinged rants and ordered two Cosmopolitans to the stage?
Obviously, there’s the pileup of twenty-something boyfriends and her uncomfortable, Quixotic obsession with youth.
But the countless desperate attention grabs fade into the background when Madonna releases fantastic music. That’s what the people want, not a weird descent into Madgeness. Her latest album, appropriately her best since 2025’s “Confessions On A Dancefloor,” has some infectious tunes, especially “Danceteria,” “Love Sensation” and “Bring Your Love.”
Meanwhile back in the stinky cesspit of Midtown on Friday night, the signs outside MSG blared: “JUST&T MARRIED,” like the Taylor and Travis think they’re the romantic equivalent of the Knicks and wanted a standing ovation from the sweaty plebs outside their fortress of elitism.
Madonna, however, is back in Vogue. The singer first moved to New York from Detroit in 1978 and it’s here where she broke out into the music industry.
You can hear the city and that decade’s influence on her new songs — particularly “Danceteria.”
Madonna is a true New Yorker, and there is something I know that even she would never, ever do: Get married at Madison Square Garden.
